


Kiss, Bite, Foreplay

by moonlightof1982



Series: Haunted [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3140882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlightof1982/pseuds/moonlightof1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa and Petyr's first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss, Bite, Foreplay

Maybe this afternoon’s fitful screaming from Sweetrobin was a sign that she should stop. Maybe it was a warning from The Seven, telling her to go no further with Petyr Baelish, but even if a Doom were to emerge around them, it wouldn’t be enough to quell the white hot passion rising in them. It was all she could do to leave his arms the first time. She wouldn’t leave again… not until she was sated!

Petyr guided her to his bed and between the sheets. They were of the finest Myrish Lace, so very warm, and thick with his scent. The softness of them on her skin let her know she made the right decision. Petyr kissed her passionately, and after shifting her ginger hair aside, he bit gently into the nape of her neck. She giggled at the feel of his beard and mustache. All of a sudden, Petyr flipped Sansa onto her belly, and began to kiss her slowly down her spine. He was apparently not in a laughing mood. His hands traveled up to her breasts and gently began pinching her nipples, sending slivers of pleasure to a place that had never been pleasured before. She could swear the bed was shaking. She clutched the linens to steady herself, but to no avail. His kisses went lower, down to the base her spine, and to the curvature of her bottom. His hands left her breasts, and gave each pink roundness a magnificent slap! 

Sansa loved that. She loved it so much, she had to have more! “Please, Hit It Again!”, whispered a face-down Sansa. “Slap It Until It’s Sore!” “Punish Me!” Petyr licked his lips, more than happy to oblige. With each smack, she ground her hips against the expensive lace, getting wetter with every blow, moving closer and closer to Ecstasy. Petyr sensed her pleasure and halted. But before she could react, Petyr forcefully spread her legs apart, lifted her hips with his arms, and planted his face into her cunt. 

His Wicked Tongue found her throbbing nub and lapped it ferociously. Sansa unconsciously grabbed a pillow and bit onto it. Her netherlips were already swallowing Petyr’s tongue, and she very well couldn't swallow her own. He spread her lips further, and his loose and wagging oral instrument became as stiff as a… Sansa shuddered, as he mercilessly plundered her hole, as if he were a pirate with buried treasure! She was his treasure! A chest full of rubies! Shining, brilliant, and of the highest quality!

Sansa was aching, moaning, shaking with desire. Her skin was on fire. Her eyes rolled. Her limbs grew slack. Her upper lips were dry and thirsty for his mouth, while her netherlips were juicy and watering for his… “Enough!” Her mind (or what was left if it) screamed so loud, she thought she heard the word in her ears. Sansa could bear no more. Her wantonness rose up from the unknown. She wrestled herself free, whirled onto an arched back, and spread her legs without a bit of shame. 

“Take Me, Petyr!” Sansa was begging! “Do It Now!”

**Author's Note:**

> A little shorter than before, but just as potent!


End file.
